


up all night

by uhposey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:44:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhposey/pseuds/uhposey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean doesn't expect a whole lot when he goes to Walmart at two in the morning, but it looks like the universe has other plans for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	up all night

Dean hates going to Walmart. It’s loud, it’s crowded, and he always gets looks from middle-aged women that say “Oh look, it’s that Dean Winchester, better keep him away from my daughter’s precious dowry.”

The only upside of going to Walmart at two in the morning is that there’s less chance of seeing self-righteous mothers - and those are only replaced by that creepy dude that hangs out in the hardware aisle muttering to himself. After ten o’clock, all the annoyingly pious townspeople leave and make way for the mentally disturbed freaks and geeks. Dean’s not really sure which is worse. The only thing he knows for sure is that he hates Walmart, no matter what time of day it is.

He’s just spent forty-five minutes wandering through the craft aisles looking for goddamn glitter glue for Sammy’s stupid Thanksgiving project - to no avail, he might add. What kind of high school still has freshmen making turkeys out of hand prints, anyway? All kinds of crazy is what that is. 

By the time he makes it to the self checkout machines, he feels like he’s just fighting a losing battle. Three of the machines are turned off, two say they’re out of order, and one is being used by an old man who, to Dean’s knowledge, has no grasp whatsoever of the English language. He scowls, resisting the urge to groan, and trudges over to the only open checkout line, bags of various craft utensils in hand. 

He spends another fifteen minutes just waiting in line, drumming his fingers on the side of his leg impatiently, maybe moving up a few inches if he was lucky. When he gets closer to the actual counter itself, he starts playing with the displays of candy and gum, tapping the cases and strumming his finger along the lines like they’re guitar strings. 

"Sir, please stop touching the displays," comes the voice of whatever idiot is working the cash register tonight. Dean makes a face at the pack of gum in front of him, mimicking the stupid guy’s stupid voice under his breath.

At long last, the woman in front of him finishes loading a stack of groceries equal to the weight of a large baby into her cart. “Thank you,” Dean says, flashing her a cheeky smile as he lifts his bag onto the counter and starts emptying its contents. 

"Dean?" 

He looks up and finds himself staring into the impossibly blue eyes of Castiel Novak. To his immense pleasure, the first words out of his mouth are “Oh, shit.” 

Nailed it.

So he tries again. “I mean, what are you doing here?” he asks, trying not to sound as flustered as he feels.

Cas frowns. “I work here.” He sounds confused, bless the poor boy.

Dean can feel his cheeks turning pink. “Oh. Right.” He clears his throat. “Can you just - uh, can you check these out, please?” 

As much as he tries to choke it down, Dean has the most glaringly obvious crush on Cas in the history of glaringly obvious crushes. He’s kinda surprised Cas hasn’t noticed yet, to be honest. It takes all he’s got just to keep walking in a straight line every time Cas passes him in the halls. 

Cas nods a little, looking down at the things Dean has laid on the counter. “You do crafts?” he asks, interest coloring his voice. 

"No, God, no," Dean says hastily. "They’re for my brother." 

"Sam," Cas says with a nod. 

Dean raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t know you knew my little brother.”

Cas keeps his eyes down, but Dean notices his cheeks turning a little pink. “I see you driving him home from school every day. He’s a freshman, right?” 

Dean nods, surprised at how much Cas knows about him. “Yeah. He’s doing this project in art class and needed some supplies.” 

Cas chuckles. “And he decided to wait until now to ask for help?” 

Dean grins. “Well, you know. Winchesters.” This is the longest conversation they’ve ever had without Dean screwing something up. It’s gotta be some kind of record. 

Cas smiles a little at him, his bluer-than-blue eyes staring at him so intensely Dean feels like he’s being saved. “Winchesters. Always waiting until it’s too late to make a move.” 

Dean blinks, taken aback. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that sounded like a come-on. He nods a little, clearing his throat again. “Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

There’s a pause in the conversation, Cas scanning bottles of glue and Dean staring at his shoes like it’s his fucking job. After a minute, Cas says in a monotone, “Thank you for shopping at Walmart, have a nice night.” He looks vaguely disappointed.

"Thanks," Dean says. He grabs his bags and starts to leave, but hesitates and turns back a little. "I’ll see you in school?" he says, like it’s a question he needs Cas to verify. 

Cas nods, not looking up as the next woman in line steps forward. “See you, Dean.” 

As Dean turns and walks outside, he can’t help but feel like he missed something really, really obvious. Like, staring-you-in-the-face get-your-head-out-of-your-ass obvious. Almost like…

He freezes in place, the cold November wind biting at exposed bits of skin and slipping beneath his collar. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He drops the bags in his hands, turns, and runs back inside.

Cas is nearly done checking out the lady’s groceries. “Cas!” he shouts, running toward him. 

By the time Cas turns to look at him, Dean is already there, his hand cupping the back of his neck and his lips pressed firmly to the black-haired cashier’s. Cas is stiff as a board, completely shocked, but it only takes a moment for him to melt under Dean’s lips. He kisses him back with a force that surprises Dean and nearly knocks him off his feet. 

Cas’ eyelashes flutter open when Dean pulls away, his cheeks flushed. He doesn’t speak - he doesn’t have to. Dean knows what he’s thinking. (The lady cheering loudly behind them helps.)

"So, just to be clear, that was a come-on?” Dean asks breathlessly, grinning at the look Cas gives him. 

"You’re an idiot," Cas says, kissing Dean again quickly before moving back to the register. "Now go home. Sam needs you." He’s still smiling, though, so Dean knows he’s not really in trouble. 

Dean laughs a little, turning to leave. “See you in school!” he calls over his shoulder. 

Cas shakes his head as the door shuts behind him. “Winchesters.”


End file.
